The Omega
by danoh1989
Summary: A young boy, located in the desolate wasteland of Filgaia. When he's told that he needs to be a hero...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Before I start, I don't own Wild Arms, or any of the ideas that came from it. I do, however, own any original characters and locales, etc. Feel free to drop any reviews, etc. On with the show.

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_Nobody knows who I really am... I've never felt this empty before._

An empty husk, that's what I am. Living day to day in the wasteland that is Filgaia. If you look left, a sea of sand. If you look right, red mountains. Where are the green expanses of yore, the ones that could be watched for hours at a time? This small town at the base of the mountains, it didn't yield any sights for sore eyes. That's why everyone passed over it, they just couldn't stand it.

Being born and raised in such a place, I was no stranger to hard work. Digging up ores or hunting down that night's dinner or even cleaning up the unsewered streets, those were the types of job for me. The lowest of the low. The youngest of the young. Being thirteen at the time, I wasn't taken seriously for anything that I did or said.

It's strange, though. Things can change so fast. In one instant, everything that you knew and loved could all of a sudden be taken from your grasp. It's also interesting that I prayed for something like this to happen. Because, as you can see, I'm stuck. Trapped between a horrible past and a dreadful future. Only something with an exponential amount of force could have freed me from my imaginary prison.

"Is this how heroes are made?" I caught the whisperings of a voice. It seemed to come from nowhere, and everywhere, and somewhere. From the mountains, from the desert, from the void. It rebounded off of walls, it emanated from the ground, it got magnified by the sun. It was in my mind.

I felt my voice starting in my throat, but I could not expel it from my mouth. Almost as if the whisper prevented me from speaking, it tauntingly spoke again. "Well?" I almost felt the playful whisper bounding across my ear, it made me shiver from top to bottom. Dropping the shovel that used to be in my hands against my will, my hands were forced upwards, I was reaching towards the sky, I needed the sky.

"All heroes are destined for it." A bright light engulfed my hand, I was in my own little world. The sun disappeared, the ungrateful mountains disappeared, all that I saw was emptyness. And the light. The light grew, larger and stronger, engulfing my arm, expanding, receding, taunting me. It engulfed my body…

And then, feeling a sharp pain on my cheek, everything returned. Looking around, the townpeople had surrounded me and were looking on angrily. I'm the young one, and the adults apparently had seen fit to punish me for spacing out while I'm doing their jobs. The whole group glared at me, the leader of the mob spoke. "We found you six months ago, and were gracious enough to take you in. Now, you'd better work…" He started to shake his fist, "Or else we'll hurt you BAD."

Something started welling up inside me. It wasn't anger, but it wasn't my usual state of apathy. What could this feeling be? Tears sprang to my eyes, I didn't even know what was going on. What was happening to me. A great amount of this… 'feeling', it made me screw up my face, it made me suffer in the worst amount of agony.

_Was this sadness?_

I looked upon the villagers, and I cried and cried. The looks of satisfaction on their faces, it told me that they thought I was crying from the wound I had suffered. But, no. It was different. It was strange, a foreign land to my limited mind. I couldn't fully grasp it, but it was there. "This is how heroes are made." The voice once again invaded the lands. "Now go, and BE a hero…"

The light returned, and I looked downwards. I stared into the light, imagining the solace within. What I had found was much different, but it occurred to me that I could still find it… But what am I searching for? This idea still had no meaning in my head, I needed to find out why these thoughts kept appearing like they did.

The idea in my hand was painfully real. The villagers were rooted in place, they couldn't believe what they were seeing. "He's… He's… He has an ARM…?" So, that's what it was. The thing in my hands, the extension of my body. It's an ARM. Like a third limb…

And then, I pulled the trigger.

Later, in the midst of smouldering ruins, I realized. Not only had I set myself free, I had set everybody in that town free. I was a true hero. The last hero on the face of this dying planet.

Now, I have to set all the others free. The last… The true last. The Omega.


	2. Chapter 2

_If I ever need someone to come along, who's gonna comfort me? And keep me strong?_

"The world is fading, young hero." I heard that voice that spoke to me a few days ago. Wandering the saved town, the ruins that held such beautiful warmth to them, the feeling of gratitude. It had overwhelmed me, knocked me backwards in a way that I never experienced before. It was a warm feeling, one that I liked. One could even go so far as to say I loved it, I was addicted to it, and I wanted more. "It needs to be saved. This town... It was just one of many, crying out to be saved from the destructive humans who reign over them carelessly. The humans decided to destroy the world; a savior is needed to rectify the situation.

My quest would start there. With divine aid at my side, and this ARM in my hand, I would be the hero that saved the planet. Soon, the world would be free from enslavement, and everything would start anew. I would blaze a path into Filgaia's future with my resolve.

"Hey, Kid!" A rough voice, the first gruff voice I had heard in days, emanated from behind me. My head perked up, but for whatever reason, I wouldn't turn around. Perhaps I was afraid of losing my resolve to save the planet. Perhaps I was afraid, afraid that he would try and put an end to my plight. Or, maybe I had lost all trust. I couldn't even look another person square in the eye, without being disgusted. I didn't know the answer, but thousands of possibilities swam through my head at a moment's notice. "What happened here?"

I remained silent. It wasn't that I didn't want to speak, it was I couldn't. My voice wouldn't come out. Was this perhaps the price I had to pay for being a hero? It was a small price to pay. I couldn't convey my hatred, which would have been unbecoming of a hero. I hated those villains who destroyed the world upon which we live. And he was one of them. An obstacle I needed to get over in order

And then, to my surprise as well as the adults, my voice conveyed my thoughts, it was the first time I had spoken in months. "You're in my way." It was so easy, it felt natural, to talk, even after so long. However, the old man didn't take too kindly to this statement. His gaze hardened as he reached for his belt. It was only then that I noticed that he had a sword strapped there.

"Kid, you'd best not mess with me. I'm with the government's peacekeeper divis..." Before he could finish his sentence, he saw the glowing of my hand and jumped behind one of the numerous piles of rubble that littered the landscape.

He was lucky.

Three bullets were spit out of the muzzle of the newly formed ARM in my right hand; each of the balls of energy rammed into the rubble and was stopped short. I reloaded without much effort, and set into motion. My opponent, apparently an experienced fighter, also did the same. He had unsheathed his weapon, an apparently normal sword with no obvious alterations.

I dove, sliding across the ground and kicking up dust along the way, firing two more bullets towards my new adversary. Skillfully, he blocked them both with his sword, taking the chance to charge. My eyes were on him every step of the way; I was analyzing the situation as I never had before. I didn't know that I'd be able to tell that he'd dodge left because of the way he was dragging his sword. I didn't know how I knew that he'd be jabbing at my torso while I laid there; just by the way he looked at me.

But I did. And because I knew, I also recognized that this battle was over. He thought he had one, as he went through all the motions I had predicted. I was on the ground, he stabbed down. My legs darted upwards; I caught the blade betwixt the soles of my shoes, sticky with the grip of rubber found from the sap of the rare trees on the mountains. His blade was stuck, he knew he had lost.

"You did this, didn't you?" His voice was quaking with disgust; the old man had now realized that a young boy with a brain far beyond his years had gotten the better of him. I had seen it in his eyes.

"Yes." And then, for the second time in those three days, I pulled the trigger to save the planet.


End file.
